


Scott and Stiles, Stiles and Scott

by SaphaelBlue



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: #Oni'sCanEatAMistletoe, M/M, Scott's sad, Stiles Dies, The Oni suck, non explicit suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-28
Updated: 2017-03-28
Packaged: 2018-10-12 06:07:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10483857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaphaelBlue/pseuds/SaphaelBlue
Summary: In which Stiles dies instead of Allison





	

**Author's Note:**

> Stiles says most of the dialouge Allison does, but I added a little twist to it. Scott, too. So, the characacters, setting, idea, and most of the dialouge belong to Jeff Davis, not me.I just rewrote the scene with a little spice becuase I love reading sad things, fight me.

“No!” Stiles pushed Allison to the ground just as the Oni lunged. 

 

Time seemed to slow down. Stiles looked to the right, just in time to see Scott running up to the fence. He was secretly jealous of how fast Scott could run. In fact, he was always secretly jealous of Scott, of his powers, of his family. Of his goodness. You see, Stiles wasn’t good, he never has been, especially since he was possessed by the Nogitsune. He could never make up for what he’s done, but he can try. He can save his friends. He can save Allison. He can do his best to make it up to Scott. 

 

Stiles gave him a sad smile. 

 

Pain, searing pain is the first thing Stiles felt when the Oni’s blade sunk into his stomach. White, hot pain. And then came the ice. It felt like somebody had driven a rod, engulfed in flames, through him, then tried to put out said flames with a sheet of arctic fire. 

 

He gasped. He could hear Scott and Lydia screaming his name, but it was too hard to focus on anything other then the chilling flames. 

 

Stiles took a step backwards, slowly but surely on his way to the ground. 

 

His hands flew forward, trying to stop the blood from pouring out of him, but they didn’t get the chance, because Scott was there. 

He was always there.

 

Scott hooked his arms under Stiles’, hands wrapping themselves around him and pressing firmly against the gushing blood. He pressed Stiles tightly against him as they hit the ground. Stiles was in his lap, now. An arm was underneath him, holding him up, while another was laying on his chest, both arms covering his own. Scott’s hands were both pressing down on the gaping wound, Stiles’ head pressed firmly into his chest, thoroughly soaking the werewolf’s shirt with a dark, crimson red. 

Blood.

Stiles’ blood.

 

Stiles looked down. Blood was seeping between both of their fingers, staining their hands scarlet. Stiles’ shirt was wrecked. Blood was pooling around the place where the Oni’s blade penetrated his skin, dripping onto the ground and forming a puddle of red. At the rate things were going, Stiles was pretty sure that, by the end of the night, Scott would look just as bad as he does, if not worse. Stiles could feel the blood gushing out of him. Huh. That sure is weird, feeling so much of your blood leaving your body at once.

 

The fire was gone now, now it was all just ice. Ice. Ice. Ice. Nothing but ice. 

 

Ever since Scott had been bitten that night, Stiles knew.

 

He knew this was how it was all going to end, him being killed by a Supernatural creature that wanted nothing, but destruction. He just hoped it wouldn’t be so soon. 

 

“Stiles,” it was a plea. A plea for this to not have happened, a plea for Stiles to be ok. But it did. And he wasn’t. And, no matter how much it scared him, and believe him, it was a lot, he knew he didn’t have a lot of time left. So he had to get some things out. 

 

“D-Did it get her? I-Is she ok? Is A-Allison safe?” Stiles said in a breathy whisper. It was getting harder and harder to breathe. It felt like as though he had just run five miles non-stop and was gunnin’ for a sixth. 

 

“Yeah, yeah, she’s safe,” Scott had tears in his eyes. God, Stiles never wanted to see that look on his face ever again. It killed him to see his best friend since he was four, his other half, look so lost. So broken.

 

Scott squeezed his hand tighter. Stiles knew what he was trying to do, but it wouldn’t work. Because the fire, the ice, it was all gone. All he felt now was a comfortable numbness. Like when he and Scott are having a sleepover and, after all of the pizza and ice cream and the video games and the pillow forts, he and Scott are curled up together in one of their said famous forts, cuddling and half asleep, talking about their dreams and their futures together. He remembers them like they were yesterday. Oh, wait, they just had one yesterday. Huh. Everything’s a little fuzzy to Stiles right now. 

 

“I……I can’t…… I can’t take your pain,” Scott looked into Stiles’ eyes, tears streaming down his face. His eyes were filled with fear, worry, anxiety, confusion, like his reason for living was dying right infront of him. And, in reality, it was. It’s always been Scott and Stiles, not just Scott or just Stiles. They’ve been through everything together; Scott couldn’t imagine a world without his best friend, the love of his life, his soulmate. 

 

“That’s because it doesn’t hurt,” Stiles whispered, eyes bright and watery as they gazed into Scott’s. Scott’s own widened. His tears were falling faster now as he began to hyperventilate. Seeing Scott cry hurt worse than the Oni’s blade making itself at home in Stiles’ stomach. 

 

“No,” Tears were streaming down Scott’s face, now. 

 

“No, Stiles, please. You- You can’t. You can’t leave. You’re-You’re my best friend. I can’t live without you.” Scott’s tears were mixing with the blood on Stiles’ face. 

 

“Stiles, please, I- I need you.” 

 

Blood was everywhere. All over Scott, Stiles, the ground. It was an endless sea of red. The bleeding had begun to slow, sluggishly oozing out of the honey-eyed boy. Stiles was trying his best to keep the pressure on his stomach, but he was so tired. Scott noticed and pushed down even harder then he was before, if that was even possible. Even when he’s covered in Stiles’ blood and panicking and scared and crying, Scott still looked beautiful. 

 

“It’s ok, Scotty,” Stiles took in a shallow breath.

 

“Stiles-” Scott pleaded, begged him. “Please-”

 

Stiles was struggling to breathe, looking Scott in the eyes and nodding, smiling slightly.

 

“Scotty, it’s ok.”

 

It was getting harder and harder to get air into his lungs, each word coming out a breathy gasp.

 

“It’s perfect,” Stiles whispered. There was a sad twinkle in his eyes.

 

“I’m in the arms…” Stiles’ breaths were becoming quicker and quicker, shallower and shallower. “Of my first love. The first person-” Stiles was swallowing his own blood. “I’ve ever loved. The person I’ll always love…. I…I love you….Scott” A tear slid down his face. He coughed. Blood coated his lips. “Scott McCall.”

 

“No, please, don’t,” Scott cried, rocking Stiles back and forth. “Stiles, don’t, please.” Stiles felt like he was drowning, it was so hard to breathe. The numbness, the tiredness, began to take over him, but he needed to tell Scott one last thing before he…… left. “Left.” Like he’s going on vacation. Yeah, some vacation, Stiles thought. Behind all of the Bravado, Stiles was actually scared. Scared of what was going to happen when he……leaves, of what’s in the beyond. Funny, considering his best friend/the love of his life is a werewolf and everything he’s been through, but he really is scared. He doesn’t know what to expect, what’s going to happen, where he’s gonna go, and that terrifies him. But that’s ok, as long as his pack was safe, as long as his family was safe. 

 

As long as Scott and his Dad were safe. 

 

“Scotty…,” Stiles was choking on his own blood. 

 

“Not.” 

 

Cough. 

 

“Your.” 

 

More blood. 

 

“Fault,” 

 

Stiles’ breath hitched.

 

“Tell my Dad I love him,” A wet ratteling sound escaped him as he took his next breath.

 

“Keep the-them safe?” He nodded frantically as he took his next breath. Scott nodded back, he didn’t think it was possible to cry as hard as he was now.

 

“Safe? Safe? You gotta-” Stiles kept on nodding. “You gotta- g-gotta-,” his eyes closed

 

No. Scott couldn’t breathe.

 

Stiles.

 

Stiles was gone.

 

How? How could this happen?

 

It's always been Scott and Stiles.

 

Stiles and Scott.

 

And now it will be.

 

Scott trailed his hands softly against Stiels;s pale, cold form.

 

It's the quietest he's ever been, and Scott finds himself for the first time hating the silence. The peace. There should be no peace, no happiness. 

 

Stiles was peace, and happiness,

 

And none of that should exist if Stiles didn't.

 

So Scott raised a claw

 

And they became Scott and Stiles again.

**Author's Note:**

> Ideas and Prompts are always welcomed! Just so you know, I am complete Sciles and Saphael trash, if you ever want to come cry with me


End file.
